Tumbling Down the Way
by Shahrezad1
Summary: On Tumblr I asked for Red Cricket prompts and this was the result. A mix of drabbles and longer one-shots, courtesy of mostly DJRocca87 and ACoupletShort's imaginations. :)
1. Chapter 1

**Tumbling Down the Way**

By Shahrezad1

Summary: On Tumblr I asked for Red Cricket prompts and this was the result. A mix of drabbles and longer one-shots, courtesy of mostly DJRocca87 and ACoupletShort's imaginations. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own these guys—you should know that by now. I've been a fan for how long? XD

**Chapter 1:**

_DJRocca87-Red Cricket prompt: the town is having a charity ball and everyone is surprised when they show up together._

The fact that Storybrooke was having a ball wasn't a surprise to anyone who knew them—sans Emma, of course, who had protested vehemently and had eventually been forced into choosing either her mother's old purple ballgown or her trusty red dress. She'd chosen the latter, with her jacket on top—it was just a part of their culture. At least, the culture of royalty. It was how they made peace, found love, and put on a face of civility when really all they wanted to do was drag each other through the mud.

Dancing at least gave some form of structure to the evening's entertainment without the inclusion of a mud bath.

And as for those who once had been, and still were, regular townspeople, there had always been their own equivalents—festivals, feasts, and instances in which an entire village might come together to raise a barn for a single household. They were community events, meant to draw people together.

So when the decorations were strung up, a hefty buffet was organized by both fairies and dwarves, and certain well-known couples made their stately way in no one was surprised. It was just the way things were.

Until a certain unexpected couple walked in.

Mary Margaret had first smiled at the appearance of Archie-slash-Jiminy Cricket. Having him by their side at community events made the whole procession feel like home, so when she saw a second figure sidle in from across the room she wasn't sure what to make of it. Had he given someone a lift that couldn't make it on their own? That seemed like the charitable thing to do, and wouldn't that be in-character of him?

But then out from the shadows came a red cloak and Snow had to re-evaluate the situation.

Oh! Red. Well, it made sense that he might bring her. After all, the Diner was right across the street from his office and—

Across the way Archie had removed her cloak, like a true gentleman, and beneath the young woman's trademark cloak Ruby wore what could only be termed the ballgown equivalent of a ballerina outfit. The color of crushed petals, her hair pulled up into an elegant bun and a rose in her hair, the Princess' friend looked everything elegant and poised.

With exception of the shy smile on her lips. Lips she kept biting as her eyelashes fluttered up at a sheepish, adorable Archibald Hopper.

The teacher didn't know what to think.

Especially when her best friend—her first real friend—took the therapist's arm with a beaming smile and they made their way in unison to the dance floor. His blue eyes never moving from her green ones as the band began to play.


	2. Chapter 2

**Tumbling Down the Way**

By Shahrezad1

Summary: On Tumblr I asked for Red Cricket prompts and this was the result. A mix of drabbles and longer one-shots, courtesy of mostly DJRocca87 and ACoupletShort's imaginations. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own these guys—you should know that by now. I've been a fan for how long? XD

**Chapter 2:**

_DJRocca87-Red Cricket prompt: he finds out she's a Trekkie_

"Just because I wear red doesn't make me a red shirt!" the comment was scoffing, harsh, and loud from across the 'War Room.' Snow and David had set it up as soon as Jafar appeared, making his move against the town in search of another Genie.

Archie spluttered on his cup of tea in response to his surprise. He coughed, stifling his laughter, across the room from the rest of the party, young Pinnochio having fallen asleep on his lap an hour or two ago. But it seemed that distance hadn't marred his hearing.

Wiping tears from his eyes, the former Cricket and current advisor glanced across the way toward Ruby, who was currently giving him an odd look, hand on one hip and the other propped against the round table.

He merely shook his head and chuckled, going back to smoothing Pinnoc's hair and wondering how she might react to the knowledge that he owned Box sets from all five series—plus a handful of the movies.


	3. Chapter 3

**Tumbling Down the Way**

By Shahrezad1

Summary: On Tumblr I asked for Red Cricket prompts and this was the result. A mix of drabbles and longer one-shots, courtesy of mostly DJRocca87 and ACoupletShort's imaginations. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own these guys—you should know that by now. I've been a fan for how long? XD

**Chapter 3:**

_DJRocca87-Red Cricket prompt: He tries to figure out how to propose (bonus points if he tries it out in Pongo who acts accordingly like he buries his face or wags his tail)_

"I just don't know what to do!" he bemoaned, dragging a hand down his face as he paced back and forth, back and forth. The view from his office window remained the same—the sign for Granny's Diner glowed dimly below him against a darkening night sky—both taunting him and simultaneously urging him on.

He could do it—he really could! He'd been practicing and…and…

Well, the fact of the matter was that he'd been wanting to propose to Red for ages. Since the day she agreed to go to dinner with him that first time, actually. But now that he finally felt like it was the right time…the courage was flowing right out of him!

On that note, was it right to know from the first date that the woman across from you was the one you wanted to marry? Then again, he'd heard Snow and Charming's story so many times that he was hoping…just absolutely hoping that this might be his happy ending. And wasn't that selfish of him? His only real purpose here was to advise—Geppetto, first and foremost, and their Majesties second. Maybe Regina third, as she attempted once again to change for the better. Certainly, he had his work and his usefulness but until he finally gave in and asked her out it seemed like his heart was hollow and filled with monotony.

If Rumpelstiltskin could find his True Love after 300 years of life, then what was wrong with him—Jiminy Cricket—finding one too?

Maybe the fact that he didn't deserve her.

Muttering these thoughts out loud only brought about a disgusted look from Pongo, his sole companion that evening. Ever since the curse had broken the canine had seemed more intelligent…more cognizant. To the point where the Dalmation had awakened him one day when he was late for work, repeatedly found paperwork he had a tendency to misplace, and even corralled Ruby into his arm on one occasion ( recent event which had made both of them laugh).

The fact that she could communicate in parts with his best (non-human) friend made the interaction all the more interesting. Especially when she had laughed, her voice chiming like bells, and called the dog an, "old romantic."

No, if even the dog was rooting for him then it must be right.

Turning, ring case in hand, Archie kneeled low before Pongo and said in a swift rush—almost without pauses, "Red, Iloveyouandwanttomarryyou."

If his drooping eyes and lounging form were anything to go by, the canine was not impressed.

Dr. Hopper groaned and continued his pacing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Tumbling Down the Way**

By Shahrezad1

Summary: On Tumblr I asked for Red Cricket prompts and this was the result. A mix of drabbles and longer one-shots, courtesy of mostly DJRocca87 and ACoupletShort's imaginations. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own these guys—you should know that by now. I've been a fan for how long? XD

**Chapter 4:**

_DJRocca87-Red Cricket prompt: Archie sees her wearing "his color" green for the first time_

The Diner's dress code had changed since the curse broke.

Which is to say, Ruby's dress code changed once the curse broke.

No one had said anything when outfits which went up to _there_ and plunged down to _here_ were suddenly replaced with flowing tunic-shirts, casual button-ups and a plethora of layers; jeans covering legs which previously she'd had no qualm in flashing.

Archibald Hopper, Cricket on one hand but Therapist on the other, could relate and understand. The clothing had been a representation of her own emotional cage. An exterior look at an inward problem. The wolf was trying to get out, in whatever way it could, and the unfortunate side effect was an untamed personality. Which wasn't to say that Ruby had been all instinct and no foresight—no a thought like that went against his very altruistic nature, and he had very much enjoyed Ruby's company on those days when she wasn't in the presence of her Grandmother—but the fact of the matter was that the curse brought out the parts of their souls which they most wished to hide.

Ruby had lacked control. David was without moral strength.

And Archie had been without courage to stand up and do that which was right.

No, if anything he had the least right to judge. His sins were brought about by inaction and spinelessness—hers were due to genetics, of all things, and the long-term consequence of her _Grandfather's_ actions.

Regardless, he was happy to see the visible change. Ruby could hardly handle day to day upheaval, much less the curse of being a werewolf. But Red had learned to control her fate; to face the hard times and accept herself for who she was—she'd come to the point in which she had no need of revealing clothing to find self worth.

Thus the therapist greeted each new outfit with positive cheer, placing optimistic emphasis on the return of her past self in the hope that the transition might have a positive start. He liked her plaid shirt, he'd said the first day, the blues were lovely against her skin tone. And the tunic-dress she liked, along with her free-falling curls, softened the angles of her face. The Fedora she'd been sporting showed spunk and creativity, and long, dangling necklaces were rather popular right now.

She'd at first responded to such compliments with surprise—unadulterated and open. Her appreciation of his words—his _acceptance_ of her change in clothing choices, of all things—was heartfelt. It also meant that he held no hard feelings regarding whom she had become; he wasn't going to hold it against her by critiquing the past. Instead he would rather point out the positive things in their present.

It soon became evident that she appreciated his opinion, from the peach of her blouse to the dark blue of her jeans. Which lead to her appreciation of other opinions—suggestions regarding music or books. Red, in turn, loaned him a few of her favorites and somehow managed to sneak out of the house a vinyl record by Betty Everett, one of the albums the Widow Lucas was overly protective of. They'd listened to the, "Shoop Shoop Song," enough that he was worried they'd dug a hole into it, the cheerful tune playing in the background as they drank coffee and tea while talking or playing Scrabble.

Thus it was that Archie looked up expectantly at the chime of the door, a gentle brush of cool air sneaking in. He knew from talking to Ashley that Red had the closing shift tonight, so he'd extended his lunch break just a tad longer in order to say a short 'Hi and Goodbye,' at the very least. Between friends.

But as she stumbled in, the wind tousling her curls, he was left gaping.

The jacket he recognized, a trendy affair with large double-breasted buttons on the front, a skirt-like flare in the back and a vermilion scarf around her neck. But when she pulled all these way what came to the surface was green.

Olive green. _His_ green. The same color as her eyes, Archie realized. Displayed in the form of a long sweater-dress, starting around her collarbone in loose, draping fabric and following her curves all the way down to her lower thighs. She was wearing leggings underneath, black and opaque, and little fur-lined boots which made her feet look adorable and about nothing else practical.

And she was watching him gape at her, her gaze that of a deer in the headlights.

Until something seemed to click within her, a certain degree of awareness and knowledge that was both Red—careful, perceptive Red—and reckless Ruby. Her form straightened as he was watching, then turned to face the coat hanger with a certain degree of deliberate nonchalance. Red's head tilted forward as she hung up her winter apparel, hair falling over her shoulder and partially covering one eye as though it was a completely planned move. Then she made her way to her post at a leisurely pace, lifted brow her only indication that she knew he was watching.

Hopper swallowed, posture rigid within his seat at the bar counter. Frozen as she took rolling steps forward, her hips swaying to an internal rhythm he couldn't even _begin_ to figure out. Then, taking a deep breath, she bridged the Formica expanse between them, lips quirking up in a knowing smile.

"So, dear Doctor Hopper," she asked with a husky trace of her cursed self below the surface, leaning close over the counter with arms folded, "what do you think of _this_ color?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Tumbling Down the Way**

By Shahrezad1

Summary: On Tumblr I asked for Red Cricket prompts and this was the result. A mix of drabbles and longer one-shots, courtesy of mostly DJRocca87 and ACoupletShort's imaginations. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own these guys—you should know that by now. I've been a fan for how long? XD

**Chapter 5:**

_DJRocca87-Red meets Jiminy (your choice of setting and story)_

The smell of the library tickled his nose. It was a mix of age, knowledge and crumbling parchment. And guilt. There was a definite feeling of guilt.

It itched along his skin from his fingers to his toes, like the powder his mother kept at the back of the wagon, used for one of their "cure" schemes. Only this time the itch was _below_ his skin—along with the heaviness of his heart.

They'd never attempted a ploy this elaborate before—it had always been little things. A cheap trick here, a distraction there, never…never…

Well, never _this_.

He stumbled slightly at the thought of it, nearly falling over the book return cart. His parents…they…they'd made a deal with the devil. Well, Rumpelstiltskin, more like, but it was all the same. They had hoped to get a charm; one that could lure wealthy targets in like moths to flame. And it had worked—it had _actually_ worked. Not that there was any room for doubt, given that it was the Dark One himself whom they'd dealt with.

Being present at the festival in honor of Prince James and Princess Snow White's engagement was proof enough that it had worked (an event most vendors would kill their own mothers in order to be in attendance). And from their prime position in the square his mother and father were surely pilfering the pockets of royals from miles around!

But the problem was their end of the bargain.

The Dark one had provided an opportunity for the thieves to gain great wealth, but it was also an opportunity to achieve his own ends. And with his parents occupied with their other activities, that left him to toil at the required task.

If he didn't, well, it didn't bear thinking about.

The problem was, he wasn't even sure where to start.

King George's royal library rose around him like mountains, taller than eye could see. Long ladders reached from the ground floor all the way up, attached to a track near the top, but with the wall sconces posted only half way up the corners were dim with shadows.

He'd tried searching all along the ground level and had come up with nothing more than every-day tomes—history, dust-filled and moth-eaten and popular novelas, their edges thumbed. There was an entire section dedicated to children's primers and _grimoires with basics on talisman-making and basic herb-lore._

_Nothing advanced, however. And there was so much more to go through. _It didn't help that his glasses were broken on the one side, either, the side-effect of a run in with local constabulary.

_It was discouraging. And should he fail—well, it didn't bear thinking about._

_Resting slightly against a bookshelf, Jiminy rubbed at the furrow he was developing between his eyebrows. The distant sound of music—full orchestra hired for the royal event—played upon his nerves, faint echo aside, and his time was drawing short ever-quicker._

_"I…I don't know what I'm going to do," the words were gasped out without thought, a reflection of his inner turmoil. But he certainly didn't expect a reply!_

_"Well, you could always ask for help."_

_He was up before he'd even registered it, breath coming fast and heart rate pulsing frantically just under his skin. Squinting into the darkened corners of the room, he couldn't see anything and belatedly realized that he'd come here—into enemy territory, to steal from King George's great library—unarmed. After all, it wasn't as though he was stealing something of worth. A-a painting, for example, or anything of monetary value. It had never even entered his mind to worry about the physical ramifications of getting caught._

_Swallowing harshly, he tried to scan the area to find the origin of the words. Attempting, at least externally, to put up a brave face, "wh-who's there?"_

_"Just someone else trying to avoid the crowd," the words were slightly wry, soothing and a little ironic. Then it was with a quietness of manner that a young woman stepped carefully into the torchlight. Her foot treads were soundlessly placed, and something about her manner reminded him of a…an animal of all things. Like a deer, or…no, more like a fox. A woodland creature somehow examining his humanity and finding it curious._

_But then he blinked and it was gone, and she was nothing more than a simple young woman, her hands clasped before her._

_The brown of her outer-dress was simple and elegant, created with a loving if lowly hand. There was no beadwork or jewels hanging off the heavy material, but amber thread created a sweeping design of wheat and curling leaves. As for her hair, it was rich and dark, a tumble of wholesome curls and a braided crown crossing over her head. The young lady's hands were long but calloused, features unadorned by an paint or product, and expression open and interested._

_She was as common as he was, the gypsy realized, a wildflower among hothouse roses._

_Except for, well, the vivid vermilion of her cloak._

_Still, the knowledge calmed him somewhat, and without realizing it Jiminy let out a wobbly smile._

_The woman gasped out a grin in response, as though she, too, had been holding her breath. With some determination she strode forward then, hand outstretched to clasp his own. He had no choice but to oblige, and as their skin brushed he could have sworn that something…strange passed between them. A semblance of familiarity and understanding._

_"I'm Red. But everyone calls me Red Riding Hood, on account of my cloak. What's your name?"_

_"J-Jiminy."_

_"Well, Jiminy," she smiled up at him cheekily, "I'm pretty familiar with this place after being cooped up while waiting for Ma-__Snow__ and David to __just get married already__. What can I help you find?"_

_He swallowed guiltily, "w-well, I…my master…"_

_Her green eyes watched him knowingly, as though she could see into his soul. She placed her hands on her hips before nodding decisively, "he's one of the guests, I imagine, wanting to take a peek while cranky ol' George is busy with other things. Well, let me tell you, the King won't miss a thing. He's not exactly a reading man, if you get my meaning."_

_Her tone was deadpan and annoyed._

_And just like that he suddenly didn't feel half as guilty. But still…he hesitated._

_Until her face whirled to look deeply up at him, long lashes sweeping over honeyed, alabaster cheeks, "what are you looking for?"_

_The redhead swallowed, fiddling with his glasses, "well, it's, ah. A book on traveling to other worlds. Blue cover, gold writing."_

_"Probably upstairs, away from the children's section," she waved at the area before taking his arm. And suddenly it was as though his arm was on fire, the areas where his sleeve brushed against hers an electrifying span of heightened nerves, "follow me."_

_And just like that the reluctant thief was aided by none other than the Princess's best friend herself. Although discovering that would be a surprise all its own._


End file.
